Word Count: 773
Summary: He finds her on the roof
Previous Chapters: 1 2 3
Sylar never leaves. Five months since that night on the roof, and he’s still with her. Claire doesn’t comment, but he sees the surprise on her face each morning when her eyes open.
They don’t talk much, Claire doesn’t really seem know what to say, and Sylar is just patiently waiting for her to realize the truth. He doesn’t tell her this, though—doesn’t want it to be false in any way.
One morning, Claire decides they need to get away. “Like on a vacation,” she says, and Sylar sees the light in her eyes for the first time since he found her here.
“Where would we go?” he asks, deciding right away that he’s going to take her wherever she wants to go. He’s got money to burn—and if he spends it all, he can always…acquire some more. It’s Claire; there’s no better reason to go broke than to see her smile.
“Somewhere warm. Mexico maybe? We can stay at one of those fancy resorts, hang out at a pool bar and have people make us drinks all day.”
Sylar half-smirks at her. “I think we’ve both know we could drink all day but never actually get drunk, Claire.”
“I know,” she says, opening the fridge and grabbing the container of milk. “That doesn’t mean we can’t have fun having them make us every single thing they have.”
Sylar’s full on grin makes her giggle. “I think this is the start to a very beautiful friendship.”
Claire freezes at that, and Sylar’s face becomes instantly unreadable. She’s not ready, he tells himself, but it doesn’t make it any easier to watch her balk every time he tries to get close to her.
“Don’t think on it, Claire,” he says to lighten the mood. “I’ll take care of the arrangements.”
She nods and continues preparing her breakfast.
“Do you ever wonder what it would have been like, if my plan had succeeded all those years ago? Do you think the world would have ever accepted us?” she asks that night. It’s the first time she’s spoken of their shared history since that first night when they agreed to leave the past in the past.
“I don’t know, maybe,” he answers, playing with her hair.
The only time she allows him to get close is right before they go to sleep. She speaks the most then, and often allows him contact without freezing up on him. He wonders sometimes if it’s healthy, sometimes he wonders if she’s still completely sane; but he realizes that their relationship cannot be categorized as healthy or sane, so what the hell should it matter if her nuances are healthy or sane.
Claire breathes deeply and turns to face him, and he untangles his hand from her hair carefully. She still doesn’t feel pain, but he always treats her as if she does. Once she’s settled again, he goes right back to playing with her hair.
“Do you think we’ll ever be free? Do you think there will be a day when everyone has powers and we can all live without having to hide them?”
Sylar hates this question. Not because he doesn’t want a world like that, but because he knows what would happen if it came to that. “It can never happen, Claire.”
“Because humans are jealous. Everyone will wonder why they didn’t end up with a cooler power, and the crazy scientist types will try to figure out a way to be like me or…or Peter. They’ll want it all, and it’ll be a nightmare for those able to have it all; they’d perform experiments, try to replicate whatever gene it is that we carry.”
Claire seems shocked. “But—but you’d never let them take you.”
“Me against an army full of specials—I wouldn’t stand a chance. And, anyway, why would you care?” he asks softly, without venom, just honest curiosity. “It’d get me out of you’re hair.”
Her soft smile is back. “I happen to like what you’re doing to my hair right now,” she says. “It’s relaxing.”
“That isn’t what I meant,” he chides teasingly.
“I know,” she whispers, snuggling closer.
Not another word is spoken, but he realizes she’s made another step in the right direction. She’s admitted to liking having him around.
Sylar sleeps easy that night.